


Going Deeper

by Cuppa_tea_love



Series: Operation Thanksgiving Extras [3]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Medical talk but not too graphic, Post-Season/Series 02, hospital fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28685193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuppa_tea_love/pseuds/Cuppa_tea_love
Summary: Daniel is not feeling at all well.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Daniel Sousa
Series: Operation Thanksgiving Extras [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555930
Comments: 66
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Operation Thanksgiving](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16685167) by [Cuppa_tea_love](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuppa_tea_love/pseuds/Cuppa_tea_love). 



> By all means, read this as a stand-alone work, but we are flashing back to an incident mentioned in passing in Chapter 2 of ‘Operation Thanksgiving’.
> 
> Many thanks to the fabulous @Paeonia for beta-ing and lots of help with medical stuff.

_April 1948_

Daniel shook out his cramping hand and looked wearily at his overflowing in-tray. Just two more reports, then he’d take a break. Maybe three. It was after two o’clock and he hadn’t even had lunch yet. He’d spent his lunch break meeting with a guy across town about an incident involving one of Caulfield’s known associates. The SSR had been watching the scientist for weeks now, hoping that they’d find something incriminating they could use to expose and bring down his operation, and he’d be damned if he let even one opportunity pass him by. 

He’d then ended up doing a bit of a canvass around the neighbourhood; it had just been easier to do it himself, since he was there, rather than send out a team later. His leg was killing him now, and he absolutely had to get these reports done today so that Rose could send them off to D.C. before the weekend.

Damn it, now his pen was empty, too. He rummaged around his drawers for a spare, strewing his stationery around haphazardly, but there was no pen to be had. Plenty of ink, though, so he refilled the empty Sheaffer that he was still holding. His hands seemed to be shaking badly as he unscrewed the bottle, and he managed to get ink all over his fingers, which was just great when he was doing paperwork for the big bosses. Inky fingerprints made a really good impression. 

For a moment, he just looked helplessly at his filthy hands, feeling suddenly so drained that he couldn’t face a trip to the nearest sink to wash them. Without thinking, he dipped his fingers in his glass of water and dried them on his handkerchief, mopping up ink from the body of the pen and the desk as well. In a little while he’d make a round trip to Rose’s desk, the break room and the locker room, where he seriously needed to check his leg. It was throbbing painfully in the socket. Okay, he might have overdone it a bit with the walking this morning.

Bloody hell, it was cold in here! Wait, when did he start talking like a limey? Or thinking like one, anyway. Too much time with Peggy, if that were possible. She had said something delightfully British the other day, actually, but now he couldn’t remember what it was. When they had been helping Jarvis to get the koala down from the roof, the little bastard. The koala, not Jarvis. The sun was beating down relentlessly as usual outside, but bloody hell, it was cold in here! 

He was suddenly desperately thirsty, too, but now his drinking water was tainted with ink. That was stupid. It looked so seductively clear and sparkling as he stared into the glass with longing. How much of a problem, really, was extremely diluted ink, when compared to the effort of going to the break room...?

However, deep down he knew the most pressing issue was his leg. He really shouldn’t — _couldn’t —_ leave it any longer; it felt like it wanted to burst out of the prosthetic. With a sigh, he pushed his chair back from the desk and tried to will himself to stand up. 

He couldn’t do it. No, he _really_ couldn’t do it. That leg was not going to bear his weight; in fact, he could hardly move it. His shaky arms weren’t going to be much help getting him around the desk, either. But, damn it, he _had_ to get the prosthetic off, and what was he going to do — drop his pants right in his office, where anyone could walk in? He rubbed the back of his head while he struggled to connect his foggy thoughts into a plan. His neck was stiff and achy as well. Maybe he was getting the flu, on top of everything else. He’d thought he felt it coming on earlier, but had hoped he was mistaken. 

He sank his head into his hands and rubbed his eyes, his forehead and every inch of his face, as though that would somehow conjure up a solution. What was he going to do?

Seriously, what the _hell_ was he going to do?

***

Peggy knocked on Daniel’s door and helped herself inside without waiting for a response. “We’re all ready for your meeting, Chief. All we need is the...” Her voice trailed away as she took in his deflated posture. “...Chief. Daniel?” she asked with concern. “What on earth’s the matter?”

Daniel looked up blearily from his hands. “Shut the door, would you, Peg?” he said.

She did so, then came over to the desk. “What’s going on?”

“I think I’m...wait, did you say _meeting?_ ”

“Yes, your usual Friday meeting,” she said with a frown. “It is the fourth Friday of the month today, isn’t it?”

Daniel looked horrified and buried his face in his hands again. “How could I forget?”

“You’ve been overworking yourself, that’s how,” said Peggy, coming round the desk to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. No one was looking; they were all down the hall in the conference room. As soon as she touched his shoulder he gave an involuntary shiver, but it felt so hot that she was immediately alarmed. Her other hand shot to his forehead. “Bloody hell, Daniel!” she exclaimed. “You’re a furnace! Are you ill, darling?” 

“Think so,” he mumbled. “That’s what I’ve been trying to...yeah, I think...I mean, I really don’t feel so good.” He sighed. “I think I’d better see a doctor.”

“And I think you’re right. I’ll call them, if you like. Do you know your doctor’s number?”

“Here’s the thing, Peg...I can’t move.”

She stared at him. “What?”

“My leg. I can’t move it. I mean, at _all._ Something’s wrong.” He looked at her bleakly. “I’m not even going to be able to stand, let alone walk outta here.”

Peggy took a deep breath, and tried to think it through methodically. It wasn’t in her nature to go into a flap when facing a challenging situation. “Very well, so you can’t walk. Do you think you could stand on your good leg if I supported you?”

“Maybe, but then I’d have to hop, and...I don’t think I can.”

It had to be costing his pride to admit these things to her, and she very much wanted to find a way to preserve his dignity. Some sort of makeshift stretcher, perhaps, or could he be carried right in his chair? She knew he would hate either option.

“Everyone’s down in the conference room,” she said, thinking aloud, “which is helpful in some ways. The trouble is, darling, that the only schemes I can come up with to get you down the stairs require at least one other person...”

“Could you go down to the meeting and get someone to help?”

Peggy started mentally running through all the agents by visualising the rows of desks next door. Who did they have who would be strong, steady and compliant, and discreet enough not to ask a lot of prying questions? She didn’t want the ordeal to be any more mortifying for Daniel than it had to be.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She crossed the room quickly, with some relief that backup was presenting itself so readily. Hopefully it was Ryan, or perhaps Harris. Once she’d explained the situation, they could come up with a plan to get Daniel down the stairs, and execute it promptly and with minimal fuss. Eagerly, she pulled the door open.

It was Dr Samberly.

“Oh,” she said, trying not to look too disappointed. “What do you want?”

“Answering the Chief’s door now, huh, Carter?” said Samberly with a smirk, poking his head into the office. “I was just going to check if — whoa, Chief, you look awful!” Daniel groaned.

“He’s not well,” said Peggy, skirting out of the way as Samberly pushed into the office and looked Daniel up and down from across the desk.

“Maybe he’s been poisoned,” he said with interest.

“Don’t have to sound so gleeful about it,” muttered Daniel.

“Well, you know, it’s just that Jerry’s always playing around with antidotes, and he never gets a chance to try them out. I’m only thinking of others, Chief.”

“I’ll pass,” said Daniel, wincing as he tried to sit up straighter. Every now and then, his teeth would chatter as a fresh wave of chills hit him.

“He hasn’t been poisoned,” said Peggy impatiently. “There’s something wrong with his leg. Can you help me get him downstairs to a car so we can get him to a doctor?”

“Forget the doctor. He needs the hospital,” said Samberly flatly.

“What makes you say that?”

“If it’s something wrong with his leg that’s causing a fever as bad as that looks, that’s probably an infection,” he said with a shrug. “A pretty bad one, I’d say. The doc’ll just send you right on to the hospital anyway. Suit yourself, but you might as well save the trouble and go straight there.”

“I think Chief Sousa is perfectly capable of knowing his own...” began Peggy.

“No, Peg, he’s right.” Both Peggy and Samberly turned to Daniel in surprise. He was grimacing painfully, gripping the sides of his chair. “Even since you’ve been here, I think it’s gotten worse. Whatever this is, it’s not good.”

Peggy could see the seriousness in his eyes — desperation, even. “Right,” she said briskly. “We need to get moving. Dr Samberly, you take his right side, you’re taller.”

“Oh, sure, I couldn’t possibly have had anything else to do,” grumbled Samberly. “You might be the Chief’s favourite agent, but there’s still such a thing as manners...”

“Just do it!” she snapped.

He opened his mouth to protest again, but Daniel cut him off. “Samberly,” he said faintly, in as close to a stern tone as he could muster. 

Samberly’s head drooped. “Yeah, I know,” he said meekly. “Do as Peggy says.” 

Peggy couldn’t even be bothered being exasperated with the pair of them. All she could hear was the weakness, the pain in Daniel’s voice. She helped him pull his chair away from the desk. “Are you ready, Chief?” she asked with forced calm. 

Daniel nodded, looking apprehensive but resolute. Peggy and Samberly squatted down so he could get his arms around their shoulders, and when they stood up in unison he gave a strangled grunt of pain as his leg straightened. He took a moment to catch his breath, gasping as he tried not to make any noise that would attract attention from down the hall. On Peggy’s count, they began moving him towards the stairs. It wasn’t easy with their different statures, but at least Samberly was tall enough to be able to keep the prosthetic from dragging on the floor. Peggy, though strong, struggled a bit more because she was shorter than Daniel, but he was able to step gently with the toe of his foot as they went.

The stairs were an ordeal, but they made it, and thankfully no curious heads popped out from the direction of the conference room. They then had only to face Rose at the bottom. Her surprise was evident and her concern touching, but when Peggy quickly filled her in and Daniel left instructions about who was in charge, and what to tell the other agents, she set to it without delay. Peggy smiled after her. One learnt to roll with the punches around here.

“Right,” said Peggy when they had made it out the back entrance. “Dr Samberly, I’ll need to borrow your car.”

“Hey, when did we decide that?” he protested.

“Mr Jarvis drove me in this morning. I don’t have one here.”

“Why don’t you take his?” asked Samberly, jerking his head towards Daniel.

“I can’t drive his car! The pedals are on the wrong side.”

“ _Really?_ I suppose that does make sense...”

“Samberly!” Peggy took a deep, steadying breath and summoned all her powers of restraint. “May we use your car? Please?”

“Sure. But I’m driving. No one’s allowed to drive my car but me. It’s perfectly adjusted to my specifications, with a fully customised...”

“Do you think I give a fig about that? Just bring it round, _please_ , and I’ll stay with him.” It struck her that Daniel wasn’t saying anything now, even to snap at Samberly, and she wondered vaguely if she should be worried about that.

When Samberly left, she put her arm firmly around Daniel’s waist to take as much weight as possible for him.

“Peggy,” he mumbled in her ear. “I’ve just _gotta_ take it off. It’s killing me.”

She didn’t need to ask what _it_ was. “Do you think you can do it in the back seat?”

“I’ll have to.”

She squeezed his hand briefly, letting go just as Samberly rounded the corner and pulled up next to them.

Once they were on the road, Daniel proceeded to shakily unbutton his pants, while Peggy looked out her window to give him some privacy. She’d seen him without his leg several times, when they had been swimming together at the mansion, but she’d never actually seen him take it on and off. The grunts and groans he was failing to suppress as he tried to get his trousers down sent shivers down her spine. Here was a man whom she had witnessed take several beatings and walk through the pain as though it was nothing. What level of agony could cause him to cry out now at such a simple task?

Finally, she could bear it no longer. “Here, let me help,” she said, turning towards him. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to have the energy to care that he was in his underwear, because all his attention was on his leg. He had the prosthetic undone at the waist, but seemed to be struggling to actually remove it — not least, because he was shivering uncontrollably now. Peggy was at a better angle to be able to pull his trousers down properly to his knees, but any time she tried to touch the prosthetic he winced in pain.

“I’ve got no room to work here,” she said in frustration. “Can you lie down across the seat?” She crouched down into the footwell, which wasn’t exactly roomy, but she was past caring. With her helping to support the prosthetic as much as possible, Daniel managed to manoeuver himself down to collapse onto the seat. He closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and even gripped his hair tightly at the scalp while Peggy finally managed to slide the socket off all the way.

“Well, now what do I do?” she asked, faced with a dangling trouser-full of artificial leg.

“Take the shoe off,” said Daniel weakly, pre-emptively shielding his stump with his hands, “and take it out the top.”

With much bumping, yelping and grunting from both of them, Peggy set to work. “Bloody hell, Daniel, this thing takes up the whole car!”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t designed for tight spaces.”

“This has gotta be the strangest mission you guys have ever taken me on,” said Samberly from the front seat.

“What a helpful observation, thank you,” snapped Peggy.

“I’m just saying,” he said, ducking his head out of the way as the socket shot over the front seat for a moment. “Sounds like one of you’s giving birth back there! Only I can’t tell which.” He looked apprehensively at the leather straps and buckles swinging lethally over his shoulder. “Weirdest baby I’ve ever seen,” he muttered.

At this absurd analogy, Peggy let out a burst of laughter. She couldn’t help it. And it felt good to laugh. “I feel more like I’m wrestling with a crocodile,” she said, finally pinning the leg down triumphantly in the footwell, and coming up to perch on the space it had vacated on the seat. She looked at Daniel’s pinched face, saw his trembling hands still hovering over his leg, and sobered somewhat. “Well,” she said with forced cheerfulness. “Shall we see what we’re dealing with?” Gently, she moved his hands away and peeled back the top of the stump sock.

Her blood went cold.

What she could see of his leg was enveloped in an angry, shiny red patch, which almost seemed to be swelling before her eyes. How on earth had he had it crammed into that socket? Ever so delicately, she pulled the sock back on and began to sort out the bundle of empty trouser leg she was sitting on. What was going on? 

With relief, she saw that they were pulling up to the hospital now. A sign saying _Emergency_ passed by her window as the car slowed to a stop.

“Dr Samberly,” she said quietly. “I think you were right.”

***

The moment the car stopped, Peggy sprang out and disappeared inside for help. Daniel would have loved just to lie there on the seat and close his eyes, shutting out the inane chatter coming from Samberly in the front seat, but unless he wanted to be dragged headlong from the car, he needed to get himself upright again. He pulled his pants up carefully, then, summoning all his willpower, grabbed the back of the passenger seat, hauled himself shakily into a sitting position and waited.

Peggy returned soon with an orderly, who helped him from the car into a wheelchair. He thanked Samberly (who asked him if there was really much point his returning to work for the last hour or so of the day) and wondered how he was ever going to be able to look the scientist in the eye after this. But there wasn’t much he could do about that now.

He was wheeled to a bed in the busy Emergency Room, where a cheerful young nurse pulled a curtain and helped him get onto the bed, and then change into a gown. He did as much as he could on his own, but gladly accepted her help with the lower half. The relief of finally lying down properly, with no more bumping and jostling to his leg, was immense.

When the nurse pulled the curtain back, Peggy promptly moved into the seat next to the bed. She was still holding the prosthetic and, as there wasn’t really anywhere convenient to set it, she laid it casually across her lap. It was a little surreal for Daniel to see it there: it was like a part of him, and he didn’t usually go passing it around. With a jolt, he realised that they must have left his shoe in the back of Samberly’s car. And his crutch, which was ordinarily never out of his sight, was still hanging in his office. He felt quite bare without it.

“The doctor will be along shortly,” the nurse was saying. “Now, I know you’re tired, but try and stay awake until he comes. He’ll want to talk to you.”

And she left them alone.

“I’m so sorry about all this,” said Daniel at once.

“Don’t be silly,” replied Peggy. “It’s hardly your fault.”

A burly doctor with salt-and-pepper hair came and examined him — nasty case of cellulitis — penicillin should set him right — there was clearly some broken skin here just asking for bacteria to set up shop — had he been following his usual stump care practices?

Daniel thought guiltily of the blister he’d been battling for a few days, which he’d smeared with cream, slapped a bandage on and then left to its own devices...of how he’d fallen behind on his laundry and been too tired last night to hand-wash one stump sock for today and promised himself he’d wash them all tonight...

“Hmph, that’s what I thought,” said the doctor, watching his face. “Well, it is a fairly severe infection to have arisen so quickly, but I don’t think this is going to give us too much trouble. We’ll get it down in no time. Still, given it’s an amputated limb, I’d like to be extra careful and keep you in over the weekend, just to keep an eye on things. Let’s get you admitted, and then we’ll send you upstairs and leave you to the mercy of the weekend crew.” Daniel smiled weakly at the attempt at humour.

It wasn’t long before he was being wheeled into his own room on the ward, Peggy following behind and grappling with the awkward bulk of the prosthetic in her arms. When they arrived, two orderlies were setting up a trapeze in a frame over the bed. Daniel looked at the familiar triangular handle and felt a powerful wave of nostalgia taking him back a few years to his long recovery after the war. It was a little disheartening that they’d just assumed he’d need it; on the other hand, at least this time he could transfer from the wheelchair to the bed under his own steam.

He pivoted onto the bed and reached an aching arm across to the metal bar. The orderlies hovered nearby. “Just so you know,” he said to Peggy, pulling himself carefully towards the middle of the bed, “I _can_ usually get in and out of bed on my own.” 

She gave him a curious look. “Glad to hear it. Do you tie your own shoelaces as well?” 

He grinned. “I just mean I don’t have a contraption like this at home, or anything. In case you were wondering.” 

She arched her brow and suppressed a little smile. “Noted,” she said simply. 

Soon enough, they were joined by a nurse from the ward. “I’ve got some shots for you here, Mr Sousa,” she informed him. “This here’s morphine, and this is penicillin.” He accepted the jabs with a resigned sigh and another hit of _déjà vu_. “You should start to feel better in no time.”

“How long may I stay with him?” asked Peggy

“I’m afraid visiting hours are over at five,” said the nurse. Daniel checked the clock on the wall: four forty-five already. “But since you just arrived, I’ll let you stay on till five-thirty.” She winked. “Don’t tell. You can come back tomorrow at ten.”

“Thank you,” said Peggy.

Now that he was lying down again, Daniel had to really fight to stay awake. The morphine probably had a lot to do with that; he could feel its effects seeping in already. “I’m not sure I’m going to make it to five-thirty,” he said sleepily.

“Not to worry. I should make some calls, anyway. For one thing, I need to re-route my ride home.”

“Oh, gee, yeah, I guess you’re kinda stranded here.”

“I’ll never be stranded anywhere if Mr Jarvis has anything to do with it,” she said with a fond smile. “And I should let Rose know what’s going on. Tell her that Harris had better be the Chief Agent on call for the whole weekend.”

“Ugh, the agency,” groaned Daniel. “What a mess. I can’t believe I just left. I never even finished those reports.”

“You did not just leave,” countered Peggy evenly. “You made sure someone was in charge. You left instruction. This is how it’s supposed to work. As for your reports, is it anything I can do?”

“It’s all budget and staffing stuff. Kinda tricky if you’re not familiar with it...but I guess you could get Rose to pull the carbons from the last couple of months, and try and piece it all together? I’ll need to sign ’em.”

“I’ll get Rose to gather it all up now, and I’ll take them home. I can bring them to you in the morning.”

“They’ll be a bit late, but...head office will just have to lump it.” He rubbed his eyes wearily. “So much to do.”

She leaned over to kiss his forehead. “Even the Chief is allowed a sick day once in a while.”

“Some Chief.” Daniel sighed. “Long’s it’s _only_ a day. Least it’s the weekend.”

“Precisely. There’s nothing at all for you to attend to that can’t wait.”

“Just my luck, this’ll be when Caulfield decides to make a move.”

“He won’t. But if he does, Harris will manage. And they know where to reach us. The surveillance teams have been running like clockwork for weeks; there’s no reason that should change. I’d better try and get through to Rose before she locks up.” She stood up and made to leave.

“You know, Peg, it should be you in charge,” he called after her drowsily. “I’d far rather it was you.”

“I intend to be firmly planted here, thank you, as often as I can be.”

“You think the guys’ll start to suspect? If you’re unavailable exactly when I’m sick?” Rose was the only one who overtly knew about their workplace romance. There was no particular reason for this; it had just never really come up, and for now it seemed simpler not to let it. If others had guessed, they’d had the tact not to mention it. 

She chuckled. “What about when Dr Samberly starts regaling them with tales of my undressing you in the back of his car? That should set some tongues to wagging.” 

Daniel groaned again. “I am not going to live that down with him.”

“Probably not. But I’m only teasing, of course. It was a medical emergency. Everyone understands.” She came back to kiss him properly before she left. “At least, I thought it was,” she whispered. “But the doctor doesn’t seem terribly concerned. I’m so relieved, love. You had me rather worried there.”

“Worst they can do is chop off the rest of it...”

She narrowed her eyes. “Not funny. Just rest now. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Daniel closed his eyes at last and simply enjoyed the feeling of her hand caressing his face in farewell. All he wanted was to surrender himself to sleep. Still, as Peggy slipped out of the room, the last thought that flitted through his mind was how over the years he’d developed a sort of instinct when it came to doctors: how to read between the lines of what they weren’t saying. Peggy hadn’t. He was glad she wasn’t going to sit at home and worry, but still...

He had a niggling feeling that he wasn’t out of the woods yet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my fics are inter-connected. Observant readers may spot a small tie-in to ’A Confidential Source’.

Peggy watched Daniel writhe about fitfully and felt absolutely numb with dread. “I don’t understand,” she said to the nurse who had come to check on him. “It’s been two days. Shouldn’t his fever be going down, not up?”

“Ideally,” said the nurse, shaking down the thermometer. “Sometimes we just don’t know how the body’s going to fight these things. He’s strong. He may still turn it around.”

_ May?  _ thought Peggy, her head spinning.

“Peggy,” moaned Daniel softly. “That you?”

“Yes, darling. I’m here.” She took his hand, relieved to hear him speak. He’d done nothing but shiver and stare into the distance all morning.

“’Sgoing on?”

“You’re in the hospital. Don’t you remember?”

“You’ve had a bit of a skin infection, Mr Sousa,” added the nurse. “You’re running a high fever, but we’re keeping a close eye on you.” 

Daniel didn’t seem to hear her. “You shouldn’t be here, Peggy,” he mumbled.

“And why not, may I ask?” 

“Shouldn’t be stuck in a place like this. With me. Bet you wish you’d never traded it in now, huh?” 

“What’s that?”

“The crutch.”

“What about it?”

“My crutch. Only, I guess you say  _ aluminium,  _ don’t you? You’re funny like that. What  _ was  _ that thing you said about the koala on the roof? Or was it the lemur? Little bastard.”

“He must be hallucinating,” said the nurse. “Maybe I should get the doctor...”

“No, it’s…” began Peggy, wondering how to explain. “I mean, yes, he’s rambling, but there really was a koala on the roof the other day.” The woman looked at her blankly. “It’s a long story.”

“What’re you gonna do if that man takes it into his head to get an alligator next, huh?” continued Daniel. “You’ll be joining me before you know it, and it’d be a shame because, hot  _ damn _ , you’ve got a nice pair-a gams!” 

“Daniel!” she exclaimed in surprise. If she wasn’t so scared, she’d be amused.

“Sorry,” he said, with an embarrassed sort of school-boy giggle. Then suddenly his face darkened, and he gave a moan that was almost a sob. “They’re going to take the rest of it, aren’t they, Peggy?” His eyes were closed and his brow furrowed against the pain.

Peggy looked at the nurse in alarm. Were they? “C’mon, Mr Sousa,” the nurse said reassuringly. “Let’s not be thinking like that. We’ve given you the best medication we’ve got, and you’re gonna be just fine.” 

“I woke up, and it was gone,” Daniel whispered, barely audible. “Just gone. Never coming back. Every day, gone, and there was nothing I could do. Nothing. Had to be a dream...but it never was...” 

Peggy felt a shiver pass through her. She’d held the hands of a few feverish men over the years, and it always felt like rather an invasion of privacy — raw emotions rising to the surface that she had no right to hear. “Hush, now,” she soothed, trying to emulate the nurse’s calming tone. 

“I used to dream about taking you dancing, you know,” he said, sounding worryingly far away. “Back in New York, all the time. That day, when I snapped...the day it all started going wrong between us...that was why. Never told you that, did I? The dream had been so real that morning. When I saw you...so beautiful...a real knock-out...I knew it was hopeless.”

It was like he’d punched the air out of her. She stared at him, lost for words, her mind reeling. In all their talks over the last few months, their sharing of a year’s worth of unsaid thoughts and feelings, there had always been some niggling pieces of the puzzle that didn’t quite fit. And here he was, ready to lay it all out for her.

But she didn’t want to hear it. Not like this. She pulled herself together. “Don’t you dare start making your confessions to me now, Daniel Sousa!” she said furiously. “You’re not dying. It’s only an infection — nothing a spot of penicillin won’t put right in a few days.”

He gripped her hand tightly, wide-eyed with fear. “If they take the rest, I’m done for. We’re done for. We won’t be able to work together.”

“Stop that,” she said firmly, reaching over to cup his face in her hand. “You know I don’t love you for how many legs you have. We’re partners, you and I. Always will be.” She fought to keep her voice from cracking. “And you’re going to be fine. We’ll be fine.” She looked to the nurse in desperation. Surely this wasn’t normal? 

The woman caught her eye and nodded. “I think I am going to get the doctor.”

“Don’t leave, Peg...don’t let them...”

“I won’t,” she assured him, knowing perfectly well there wasn’t a blessed thing she could do to stop them doing whatever needed to be done. “I’m here. I’ll stay with you.”

She would stay with him forever if he asked her. And she prayed to whoever was listening that he would stay with her.

***

Many things floated through Daniel’s mind that night. His father, his sisters, cousins, aunts and uncles. Picnics on the beach. Birthdays and feast days, weddings and new babies. His mother, too, was never far from his thoughts. A comforting, encouraging presence. A scolding he thoroughly deserved. A warm embrace he could almost feel. Was his family going to have to hear news of his passing from thousands of miles away? He’d thought so once before, and it hadn’t come to that. But one day it would. 

Memories from the war that he usually kept locked away became hauntingly real. He felt his whole body shudder as he saw the carnage, the destruction, faces he couldn’t forget. Prayers were uttered that were more heartfelt in their desperation that anything he could say from the comfort of a church. The enemy was looming, and fear and courage, hope and despair rolled together until it was impossible to tell them apart.

There was the work, of course, but that would keep going without him. He would be just a blip on the SSR continuum, but whatever small part he’d been able to play, he was proud.

And Peggy. Beautiful, fierce, magnificent Peggy. All he could offer her was a life full of inconvenience and frustration, yet she seemed undaunted. Part of him thought maybe she’d be better off if this thing did swallow him up. Another part knew he was going to marry that girl if it was the last thing he did.

_ Fight _ , he kept hearing her say from somewhere off to his right, as a smooth, firm hand clasped his.  _ Please, Daniel. You have to fight this and come back to me.  _ And he wanted to — oh, he wanted to so badly. 

Sometimes he would hear doctors arguing over him.  _ No sign of gangrenous tissue...it can’t be...but look how he is...there must be  _ something _ going on in there...if we don’t operate, we could be putting his life at risk... _

He felt the rattle of wheels through the mattress, saw lights passing above him in dizzying flashes. Where were they taking him? “Peggy!” he rasped, but there was no answer. No comforting hand in his. He must have left her behind somewhere along the way. Or maybe he’d only dreamed her in the first place. Maybe she was back in New York and he was still the fool who’d left her. He was alone.

_ Fight,  _ he reminded himself.  _ Whatever comes, we keep fighting. _

***

“Auerbach Theatrical Agency, how may I help you?”

For a moment, Peggy couldn’t speak. Of course, it was just a silly cover name, but hearing it hit her like a blow to the chest.  _ His  _ agency...and here he was fighting for his life, and no one even knew.

“Rose,” she managed at last. “It’s me.”

“Peg! I’ve been wondering about you.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve only just twigged that it’s Monday morning, and you’d be wondering why we weren’t at work. I’m still at the hospital.”

“Yeah, I figured you must be. Are they letting him out today?”

Peggy closed her eyes and tried to hold herself together.

“Peggy? What is it? Is the Chief all right?”

She let out a shaky breath. “No. No, he’s not all right.”

“What? What’s happened?”

“I don’t know, really. He was fine on Saturday. A little lethargic, but I didn’t think anything of it. Then yesterday his fever just got out of control and everything started to unravel.” It had all happened so quickly; that had been the most alarming thing.

Rose exhaled in a baffled sort of huff. “Well...well, what do you mean by a fever? How bad are we talking?”

“I mean that he was completely off his rocker. Sometimes he didn’t even know where he was or what was happening.”

“Oh, Peg! Why? What’s wrong with him?”

“They couldn’t seem to agree about that. One doctor still thinks it’s just a bad skin infection, another thinks it’s gone deeper and wanted to operate to see what he could find. And they looked worried, Rose. Very worried.” And Daniel...the look in his eye when he’d pleaded with her… “They’ve taken him down to theatre now, and…I don’t know. I don’t know what they’re going to do.”

“Sit tight, Peg. I’ll be right over. Is there anything you need? Let me bring a thermos of coffee and some pie or something.”

“I don’t think he’s going to be up to eating much, Rose.” It had been hard enough getting him to take fluids, let alone food. 

“I meant for you, silly! You must be feeling like a caged animal over there.”

How well she knew her! Sitting helplessly by Daniel’s bedside had been bad enough, but to watch him being wheeled away this morning to some unknown surgical procedure — to “have a look around,” as the doctor had ominously expressed it — was nothing short of torture. Peggy was starting to wonder if she was about to crack up under the strain. She ran a shaky hand through her hair.

“Thanks, but I’m fine. The Jarvises have already been and brought me a few things from home. And we can’t have you abandon your post, too. The agency would probably fall apart.

“If you say so. But what are we going to do? Harris gave a little briefing this morning, as it didn’t seem the Chief was coming, but how long can he keep it up?”

Peggy sighed. “Just tell them that Daniel is still unwell, and we’ll hopefully know more by the end of the day. I’m sure everyone can keep themselves busy for one day. And as for my absence, tell them...oh, I don’t know what to tell them. I can’t decide whether I care if everyone knows I’m here.” It just didn’t seem like a decision she should make without Daniel.

“No one’s going to be too surprised, Peg,” said Rose with a little smile in her voice. “But I could always say you’re just monitoring the situation, aren’t you, or even providing security? Well, maybe that last part’s a bit far-fetched. But I won’t bring it up unless anyone asks. They might, though, because technically you do have seniority over Harris. It might occur to someone that you could be Chief  _ pro tem _ if you wanted.”

“I suppose we’re all going to have to answer to Head Office about the chain of command at some stage,” said Peggy wearily. “There’s paperwork we should be doing, to keep things by the book.”

“I’ll look into it,” said Rose. “Don’t you worry about a thing. You just focus on what’s going on at your end.”

“You’re a marvel,” said Peggy. She was so bone-tired, she was half hanging off the wall telephone. “I’m trying to decide whether I should call his family,” she said. “I hate to worry them when there’s nothing they can do. But maybe they ought to know what’s going on.”

“Hmm, that’s tough,” said Rose. “Maybe ask one of the nurses what they think? They often have a fairly good sense for when to make that call. If there’s one thing I know about hospitals, it’s that nurses are the ones who really know what’s going on. If you get a good nurse on your side, everything goes a lot more smoothly. They’re invaluable.”

That was good to know. “They are the Rose Roberts of the hospital world, I suppose.”

Rose laughed. “Something like that. But, Peg, that call’s gonna cost you a fortune from the hospital. I’d offer to place it for you here, but I guess there’s no way to construe it as a work expense, is there?” 

“No,” said Peggy. “It does almost feel like he was injured on the job, but really it’s just a coincidence that he was there when he fell ill. Odd, though, isn’t it? We all live with the possibility every day that we could end up in here, and our families might never be told the details. Now he’s here, but it has nothing to do with work. It never even occurred to me to ask what he’d want me to do in this situation.” 

“I guess the question is whether it’s worse to give them unnecessary worry, or to leave it too late and have something terrible happen. Not,” she added quickly, “that I want to start you thinking like that.”

Peggy gave a brittle laugh. “ _ Start _ me? It’s all I’m thinking! Yesterday, a nurse asked me if I thought he’d like to see a priest, and for a moment there I thought she meant...” She shuddered. “But it was only because it was Sunday. I’d completely lost track.”

“I’m so sorry, Peg. I wish...I wish there was something…”

“There isn’t,” said Peggy grimly. “I should go. I’ll be in touch.” And she hung up, before she could go to pieces completely. 

_ Providing security _ , Rose had said. If only that were true. If only there were some sort of tangible enemy she could ward off. But there was nothing in the world she could do to protect Daniel from what was attacking him now.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Daniel was aware of was someone shuffling around to his left. He tried to turn his head, but heard a grunt of surprise rasp from his throat. His neck was awfully stiff and tired.

“Mr. Sousa? You’re awake?” came a woman’s voice. He was sluggishly trying to open his eyes, but felt no great hurry. The light was blindingly bright, and in the meantime he was working on putting the pieces together. The bed, the stranger, the fogginess, and there was no mistaking that smell: he was in the hospital.

“Take your time, Mr. Sousa.”

He squinted towards the nurse. She didn’t look familiar “Lieutenant,” he mumbled.

“I’m sorry?”

“Lieutenant Sousa. Shouldn’t it...? No, ’course not. Never mind. That was...that was then.”

“That’s right, Daniel,” said another voice. “That was years ago. It’s all over now.”

“ _ Peggy _ .” He turned to look at her, stiff neck be damned, and smiled as he realised her hand was clasping his again. But she looked a mess. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked with concern.

She laughed hollowly. “ _ You _ , you idiot!” she exclaimed. “ _ You _ are what’s wrong with me!” She ran her fingers through his hair tenderly. “You scared me half to death.”

“Right. Yeah. Sorry. Damn leg...” Suddenly he gasped and tried to prop himself up on his elbows. “My leg — is it...?” He was straining to get himself high enough for a good look.

Quickly and smoothly, the nurse put her arm under his shoulders and lowered him gently back down to the pillow. “Careful there,” she said. “Your body’s been through quite an ordeal. You must take it easy.” But Daniel’s eyebrows were deeply knitted with worry as he turned questioningly to Peggy.

“It’s going to be fine, darling,” she reassured him. “All perfectly ship-shape, right where you left it.”

He looked back to the nurse, who smiled in assent. This didn’t comfort him. He’d seen too many nurses over the years downplay a bad prognosis with a cheerful smile. “I need to see,” he told her earnestly.

“Well, all right, then,” she said. “But let me help you. Do you think you can reach the trapeze?” Daniel looked up at the handle dangling above his head, looking impossibly far away. He reached a trembling hand up towards it, but his arm seemed to weigh a ton. “Never mind,” said the nurse lightly. “We’ll try again later.” She braced her arm behind his shoulders and helped lift him up a few inches. He could see the shape of his legs clearly under the thin blanket, and sank back with a sigh.

“Never thought I’d be so glad to see a leg-and-a-half,” he said. “They operated, though, right?” Everything was starting to come back to him in wobbly little pieces. Besides, his stump definitely looked a bit thicker now, like it was swollen or padded out. 

“They did.”

“A revision?” His heart sank again. Of course, he was grateful it wasn’t worse, but a revision of his amputation, even a small one, would be almost like starting all over again: months of recovery, swelling, desensitising, temporary prosthetic, and getting to know a whole new leg before he could even think of walking again. How would his career survive all that? 

“You slept through morning rounds, otherwise you could have heard all this from the doctors,” said the nurse. “You had developed an abscess on your leg where the infection had entered. Dr Davis suspected you were in the early stages of what we call hospital gangrene — that doesn’t mean you caught it here, you understand, that’s just what we call an infection of the soft tissue. But it can be quite serious if left unchecked. So he removed the abscess and a bit of the surrounding tissue, and you started getting better soon after.”

“He...he removed an abscess?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

“But...what does that...what does that actually…” His head was spinning. “What does that  _ mean? _ ”

“Daniel,” said Peggy, her eyes bright. “Your leg is fine. The doctor just wants you to stay off the prosthetic and rest for at least four weeks.”

“Four weeks!” he breathed, not quite daring to believe what she was saying.

“Four to six was the doctor’s estimate,” said the nurse. “And he does mean a  _ proper _ rest,” she continued sternly. “No having work sent home to you or sneaking off to run errands. You’re about to use all your sick days and then some.” 

“But I...I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck, and you're saying it was just…” He looked from Peggy’s face to the nurse’s, still trying to wrap his head around it all. “Well, I don’t know whether to be relieved or embarrassed,” he concluded.

The nurse chuckled, while Peggy fixed him with one of her formidable looks. “ _ Relieved _ , Daniel, is the correct answer,” she said firmly. “Very, very much relieved, and…” Her expression crumpled, and suddenly she was burying her face into his side, and he was reaching for her hands, her hair, and he didn’t know whether they were laughing or crying or simply clinging to each other in an effusion of joy. 

The nurse left them to it for a tactful moment, but eventually they realised that she was still hovering to take Daniel’s vitals. She seemed pleased with them — temperature was tracking nicely — and promised Daniel she’d get a late breakfast sent up to him soon, if he was up to it. Then, with a smile, she left them alone.

“Oh, Peg,” he said as soon as she was gone. “I really thought I might’ve bought the farm that time.”

“Not this time,” she said quietly. “No farms for the present. We’ll just...put you out to pasture for a few weeks, and bring you back as good as new.”

He gave an unappreciative grunt of laughter. 

“Were you here all night?” The way she was rubbing her neck had the look of someone who’d slept in a chair, and she wasn’t wearing lipstick, which made her face look even more pale than it really was. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Two nights, actually,” she said. “It’s Tuesday now.”

“What sorts of threats and intimidations did you have to make to pull that off?” he asked with a faint grin. “Tell me you didn’t wave around your government credentials?”

The look on her face told him he wasn’t far off. “Just the endearing warmth of my personality, I assure you. It seems they don’t care so much about visiting hours when you’re at death’s door. And if you think for one moment I was going to be anywhere else...”

He took her hand again. “I really put you through the wringer, huh?”

Peggy sighed and leaned her elbow on the bed. “I’m too tired to come up with a witty comeback to that. Yes, you put me through the bloody wringer. But I’ve done the same to you, so I suppose I can’t complain.”

She was right. He knew exactly what she would have been going through, and he didn’t envy her. “We’ll call it even, then.”

“We might have to start keeping a running tally, the rate we’re going.” 

“Who do you think's winning?”

“That depends on what you mean by winning.” There was a sober silence, then Peggy added quietly, “You don’t know how lucky you’ve been, Daniel.” 

“Tell me,” he said. He had no desire to be handled with kid gloves. 

She took a deep breath. “Well, they don’t give much away, these doctors, but it seems to me it was really just a lucky hunch that saved you. Just about every doctor in the place took a look at you on Sunday, and they all seemed to have different theories. I definitely heard the word ‘sepsis’ thrown around a few times, and all manner of different ‘-itises’ that didn’t sound much fun. There was one doctor who thought they should operate, but the overall consensus was to wait and see which way things went, rather than subject you to surgery needlessly.”

“What made them change their minds?” 

“They didn’t. It was your original doctor, the one we saw on Friday, Dr Davis. He came back on Monday morning, looked very grave and ponderous and left the room without saying much. Then within the hour he marched back in and declared he was taking you straight to surgery. And thank goodness he did. It sounds like, if they’d let the infection spread to the point where it was visible, it might have been too late to…” She blinked and squeezed his hand harder. “Just be grateful you’ve been in a haze of feverish delirium and missed most of it.”

“Oh yeah, itʼs been peachy,” he said, stretching each arm stiffly across his chest with a grimace. The actual events of the last few days might be a bit blurry, but the whirlpool of pain and fear he’d been drowning in still felt very real. “We’ll have to get Jarvis to bake that man a cake.”

“You jest, but the nurses have already been treated to a plate of shortbread and some of those Hungarian pastries that Ana makes. You’ve become quite popular.”

“That’s clever of me. So what else have I missed?”

“Oh, I telephoned your family.”

Daniel looked up quickly. “You did?”

Peggy nodded. “Yesterday morning, when you were in surgery. I hope you don’t mind. Rose tracked down Ines’ number for me, as I thought her the most likely to be home. And then I called your father later, when we were sure you were getting better. It would have been after ten over there, but I didn’t think he’d mind.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t. D’you want me to reimburse you?”

“Don’t even think about it. I could have telegraphed, but...I thought they’d probably had their fair share of alarming telegrams about that leg over the years,” she said grimly. “And then I didn’t want your father to have to wait a second longer than necessary once there was good news.”

“That’s sweet, Peg. He’ll appreciate it.”

She yawned and stretched her arms above her head. “Hopefully before long we can wheel you out to the phone, too. I’m sure they’d all like to hear your voice.”

“That’d be swell.” His father might be tempted to jump on the next train, but he hoped that sense would prevail. There had been talk of everyone coming to L.A. for Thanksgiving this year, and he’d far rather they saved up for that. Pai had sat around enough sick rooms with him to last a lifetime. 

His breakfast tray arrived, and the orderly who brought it packed a couple of extra pillows under Daniel’s head and shoulders so he could eat more comfortably. The simple, stomach-friendly contents gave him another burst of nostalgia: toast, crackers, some Jell-O, a drink with a straw that he assumed was ginger ale. None of it particularly roused his appetite, but he felt that shaky sort of weakness that betrayed how much he really needed it. 

“I really slept for a whole day?” he asked Peggy, as he dutifully started nibbling on a cracker.

“Nearly,” she said. “You have drifted in and out a bit, but this is the first time you’ve been what you’d call conversant. You don’t remember?”

“Maybe. Vaguely.”

“You didn’t even seem to notice when the nurse came in throughout the night. You must be a deep sleeper — I was jolted awake constantly by that door opening!”

“Probably just thought I was dreaming of the old days.” He carefully reached for the ginger ale, took a couple of sips through the straw and waited to see how his stomach would take it. “So, how badly did I embarrass myself back there?” he asked casually. “Was I crying for my mother two minutes in?”

Peggy looked a little awkward. “Well...you did mention her, actually. Once or twice.”

Daniel sighed. Stupid example. “Yeah, I guess that figures.”

“Perfectly natural,” she said. “You didn’t make any heartfelt confessions about how you stole your sister’s candy, or sent a ball through the glasshouse roof, or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“Well, that’s a relief. I was hoping to take those stories to the grave.” 

This made Peggy laugh. “You don’t have any stories. Your Pai would sniff you out straight away, I’m sure of it.”

“You don’t think I could hold out under interrogation?” asked Daniel. “I’m hurt!”

She shook her head, grinning. “I’d give young Daniel a day, two at the most, before the guilt would eat him alive. I, on the other hand, had no compunction in laying all manner of blame at my brother’s door. Quite successfully, too, more often than not.”

“Now  _ that  _ I can believe.”

Silence fell between them again, although for a moment Peggy looked like she was going to say something in earnest, but thought better of it. Daniel wondered what he  _ had _ let slip.

Instead, she found her smile again. “I’m fairly sure you talked a lot about the races!”

“Really?” asked Daniel incredulously. “I don’t remember that at all.”

“Yes, repeatedly. At least, you kept talking about the winners of something, and that was all I could think would make sense of it: ’Winners, you can make it! Winners, don’t give in! I’ll be joining you soon, winners, you’ll see.’ Have you held a long-cherished ambition to be a jockey I wasn’t aware of?”

Daniel’s face fell. “That wasn’t about the races. It was a name: Win- _ ters _ .” He enunciated the ‘t’. “Lieutenant Harold Winters.”

“Oh. I didn’t realise. I’m sorry.” She looked a little too understanding, and he could practically feel her carefully not asking anything further. Of course, they all had _those_ memories from the war, and he wouldn’t pry into anyone else’s either. But that’s not what this was.

“It’s not what you think,” he said. “He was on my floor at the hospital. Above the knee, like me. Poor guy came in with an infection he just couldn’t shake. Every time he was nearly healed up, it would flare up again and they’d have to revise his amputation. Three, four times as least, while I was there.”

“That’s a lot?”

“That’s  _ insane. _ I can’t even begin to tell you what a toll it takes on the body: constantly bed-ridden. Months of pain. And the sheer frustration of making no progress — that alone would be enough to break a man. But he kept pretty cheerful, all things considered. We’d give him a hard time about it, you know, to keep his spirits up.”

“Naturally.”

“Used to joke that there was a prosthetic waiting for him in the shop that was getting longer and longer every day. But then it got really bad.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “Gangrene took hold, and they had to take it all the way back to the hip. Suddenly it wasn’t so funny anymore.”

“Poor man.”

“There were always two types of people in that place. Those who figured they’d cheated death and felt invincible, or at least determined. And those who...”

“Didn’t,” finished Peggy grimly.

“Winters went from one to the other overnight. He just...crumpled. Gave up. I don’t think I ever saw him smile from that day on.”

“How awful.”

“I think it was losing the hope of a prosthetic that put him over the edge.”

“You can’t wear a prosthetic if you lose the whole leg?”

“I think you  _ can _ , technically. But they’re so big and heavy, and such an effort to use, you end up needing to walk with crutches anyway. So most people find it’s easier with just the crutches. I’m not sure exactly why, whether it was something to do with how they’d had to shape it in surgery, but the doctors seemed to think it wasn’t even worth considering. ”

“In the meantime, I suppose, the rest of you were getting yours, and getting up and about on them,” said Peggy. 

“Exactly. And it’s not just a convenience. To be able to stand again, to feel whole, look down and see two feet on the floor…”

“Oh, yes, I understand what you mean,” she said. “It’s the way you present yourself to the world, isn’t it?”

He always marvelled at how easy she was to talk to about this stuff, once he got going. “Yeah. I sort of didn’t want to be wearing mine when I visited him, you know?”

“Oh, Daniel.” She was shaking her head at him, and from the look on her face he was afraid she was going to start waxing lyrical about his own virtues, but thankfully she didn’t. “So what became of him? I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “When I left, he was only just starting to be able to sit in a wheelchair. I wrote him a couple of times from New York, but never heard back. So who knows what that means.”

“Well, if he’d…if anything had happened to him, they would have returned your letters.” She paused. “You’ve got resources now. You could look him up, get Rose to pull his military file?”

“I could.” He gave a wry smile. “Guess I’m afraid to ask, too. But I do think about him often. And sometimes I wish I didn’t.”

She nodded slowly, and seemed to be mulling it all over for a minute. “You were worried,” she said at last. “That it would happen to you, and you wouldn’t be able to work anymore. That it would be the end of us.”

Daniel raked his hands through his hair, probably leaving it sticking up in all directions. “Yeah, I guess I did,” he said. “I think I remember. Sorry if I scared you.”

“I suppose I can see why,” she said. “But, you know, just because that was his breaking point, it doesn’t mean it would be yours. You must have seen it in the war: some soldiers were reduced to hysterics after a week on the front line, while some toughened souls lasted years, only to crack up at some seemingly small thing. There’s no reason Winters’ tragedy need ever be yours. Though it is terribly sad,” she added. 

“I know,” he said quietly.

“And as for it being the end of us,” she continued, standing up now and having a proper stretch, “well, all I can say is: more fool you!”

“Why’s that?” 

She leaned right over him and looked playfully in his eyes. “Clearly you have no idea yet just how stubborn I can be.” With that, she planted a little kiss, straightened and began rifling through a bag that was sitting on another chair. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom to freshen up a bit?” she asked, pulling out a hairbrush, lipstick and compact. “I don’t know why I’m asking, really — I’ve been using it for days.” There was a hanger of clean blouses on a hook on the wall, from which she took one. She really had made herself at home. Daniel’s crutch was on the next hook, though for the life of him he couldn’t remember how or when it had got to the hospital. 

“It wouldn’t surprise me if one or more Jarvises stops by, or Rose,” continued Peggy. “I’ve told them there’s a perfectly good cafeteria here, but they can’t seem to be able to resist feeding me. Now that you’re awake there’s bound to be another influx of biscuits and tortes and goodness knows what. There’s also some paperwork here that we should look at when you’re up to it, but it’s not urgent. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Now that she was standing up and moving around, her earlier fatigue seemed to have given way to a burst of morning energy. How Daniel wished he could do the same: just leap out of bed and face the day! While she was gone, he tested his joints and muscles systematically from his neck all the way down to his toes, turning, flexing and releasing. The stump of his right leg wasn’t going to be winning any medals for range of motion this morning — the pain when he tried was blinding — but he managed to bend his left knee all the way perpendicular to his body and rotate his ankle, and felt stronger for it. 

His mind was definitely feeling sharper now, too, despite the old familiar fuzzy feeling lurking in the background that told him they still had him on morphine. Peggy’s mention of paperwork had jolted him back to the reality of all his responsibilities. He hadn’t even thought to ask her yet what had been happening in his absence.  _ No work _ , the nurse had said, and to be honest, he didn’t feel like that was going to be a hard order to follow. But still, what were they going to do? 

What was  _ he  _ going to do, stuck at home for at least four weeks?

Peggy re-emerged, looking much more like her usual self. “Well, that’s the best we can do,” she said, shoving her things back into the bag. 

“You look great,” said Daniel. She always looked spectacular as far as he was concerned, but saying so probably wasn’t going to get him very far. Watching her bustle about, so capable and tireless, was beautiful and oddly soothing.

“And you look like death warmed over,” she said cheerfully. “Hopefully a nurse will come and sort you out before long because, not to hurt your feelings, dear, but you don’t smell like a bed of roses, either. You probably don’t want to be seen in this state.”

“This the kind of tender bedside manner I can look forward to for the next few weeks?” he asked with a grin.

“I suppose it is, yes.”

“Peg, do you mind fielding the visitors for a while? Of course, I’ll take whatever paperwork needs to be done, but I don’t really want to see anyone just yet.”

“Certainly. I’ll take care of it.” 

“Thanks. Hey, do you think you could try out those nursing skills and help me sit up?”

Peggy looked dubious. “Shouldn’t you check with the actual nurse?”

“It’ll be fine.” He was pretty well attuned to what his body could handle. At his direction, Peggy put her arm under his shoulders, to steady him as he pulled himself up with the trapeze. Once upright, he clung to the trapeze for a minute until his head stopped spinning, while Peggy rearranged his pillows for sitting. Then, ever so carefully, he shuffled back towards the head of the bed, gritting his teeth against the pain in his leg. “That’s better,” he said, leaning his head wearily back. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, still eyeing him carefully. “But if you pass out on me again, I’m going to be very cross.”

“No immediate plans. I feel more alive already. Might even attempt a superhuman feat like tackling that Jell-O.” In a minute, when his hands were less shaky. “And, Peggy? Thanks for…everything. Staying with me.” He wished he could explain what it meant to him to have her there, how he'd held onto her strength when he'd had none of his own. It wasn't just that they'd faced down death together yet again. As they shared a wordless smile, he knew: something had deepened between them, and there was going to be no going back. 

This nursemaid routine wasn’t going to suit her for long, though. She would probably take all her vacation days to look after him if he asked, even if it drove her mad, but he’d far rather know she was out there doing what she was born to do. He could endure a few dull, lonely weeks of recovery on his own. And he would live to fight another day by her side.

Besides, there was one job she could do for him that no one else would do so well. 

He found her hand again, rubbing his thumb softly over her knuckles — so comfortable, so reassuringly real and present. “Peg? I’m going to need you to do one more favour for me.”

“Of course. What do you need?”

“I need you to run the West Coast SSR for a few weeks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hospital gangrene is the old name for necrotising fasciitis. Yep, I really am that mean. In researching for this fic, I read more horror stories than was really wise for my mental health, and looked at enough gross pictures to frighten me into better wound care practices for life!
> 
> Thanks to those of you who've been along for the ride, and for all your lovely encouraging comments!


End file.
